


Shut up and listen.

by skyblue993



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dates, Derek orders salads at McDonald's, Drunken call, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Mention of finger sucking, More chapters to go, Parties, Rating changed to Mature, Romance, Stiles is a drama queen sometimes, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-10-09 08:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyblue993/pseuds/skyblue993
Summary: Stiles gets drunk at some party and he ends up dialing his ex-boyfriend's number. (Or at least that's what he thinks.)





	1. Chapter 1

There's a reason why Stiles is not allowed to come within reach of any category of beverage that is not either Water or coca-cola or ginger ale. Scott is usually Stiles' designed keeper when it comes to keeping tabs on him throughout those particular nights Stiles' feels like the best idea in the world is to drown his sorrows in streams of alcohol.

Scott has basically Stiles attached to his hip throughout the whole night, except when he's not.

The moment he lays his eyes on Alison, lighting up the whole room with her smile, Scott's lips part in wonderment, his eyes go soft at the vibrant sparks radiating from Alison's whole persona, bursting out into laughter at something that Lydia leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Stiles looks at him from the corner of his eyes, taking one small, subtle step backward. The corner of his lips quirks up in a smirk the moment Scott's smile widens when Alison takes awareness of his presence and waves at him from the other side of the room.

Stiles takes one more step backward until he's made sure that Scott's completely drunk off Alison's smile to notice that he's wriggled out from his watch. He walks cooly, with hands fisted in his back pockets and a look on nonchalance written all over his face, towards the boozes station.

Stiles doesn't get drunk that often, only specifically when it's the case to mend his broken heart by drowning his love sorrows in enough amount of alcohol to knock the pain off. That's all.

Thanks to the last few brain cells that haven't short circuited yet, Stiles makes the thoughtful decision to quit drinking for several reasons like, the heat of his cheeks reachinf the same level of the  radiator for starters, or the palpitations of his heart picking up speed beyond belief when, going by the blurred vision, he starts seeing things that no way in Heaven or Earth make sense.

He actually causes a group of people, quietly chatting among themselves, to jerk around, startled by the abruptness of Stiles' hand grabbing some complete stranger by his forearm. He raises his hand to the guy's face and asks him with voice loud pitched and terrified to say the least, “Do you see it?!”

The guy, as well as the group of people around them, sends one long, worried look in his direction, probably wondering what the heck is wrong with him. Some of them are just whispering among themselves, some just stare at Stiles with quizzical looks on their faces.

“S-see what?”

Stiles' eyebrows are drawn together in a confused frown, waving his hand before his face as to make him see what's exactly wrong but the guy doesn't seem to notice anything but Stiles acting like a total freak, right now.

“Count my fingers! I got six fingers!”

The guy looks at him with a wince of hesitation flashing across his features, then he actually starts counting Stiles' fingers as there's such a thing as a possibility for that to be true. The girl next to him just shakes her head, walking away with the look of someone who just seemed to have dodged a bullet.

"Five fingers." The boy finally concludes, glaring at Stiles after noticing that the girl, he was probably hitting on, decided to go check if _the grass is greener on the other side of the hedge._

Stiles is staring intently at his fingers, not looking quite convinced. Then he shrugs, starting to walk away and murmuring with skeptical look on his face. "I don't trust you. You look drunk." 

He doesn't really catch the boy's voice commenting with an outraged pitch in his voice, "That's rich coming from you!" or maybe he's just too drunk to care. 

His hand just casually brushes over the bulge in his pocket and as soon as he realizes that Scott completely astounded by Alison's magnificent presence, forgot to confiscate his phone. That's another golden rule Scott has never seemed to breach before. Well, that was before Alison and her grand entry, of course.

Stiles can't keep his phone within reach whenever he's this level of wasted, okay? Terrible things happen when he does and Scott has learned it at his own expense. Anyway, that's another story.

Thing is, Stiles can't be in possession of his phone because otherwise, this happens.

 

"Hello?"

Stiles gives a humorless laugh followed by a loud snort escaping his throat. Because, _Hello._

Just-- how can a piece of shit like Jordan is even considering to be able to sleep peacefully without getting his soul to be eaten up by his _sins_?

"Hello." Stiles repeats the words with a shake of his head, shaking his head although no one is able to see him in the darkness of this small wardrobe. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry, I--"

"Oh yeah." Stiles cuts him off sharply, the sound of his voice alone is making his ears bleed. "You should be!"

"I think you should call someone else.."

"Oh no." Stiles' still vehemently shaking his head, letting out a humorless laugh from his throat. "No, no, no, _amigo!_ You're not gonna get away with this, this time. Y-you know? I'm just so done with your bullshits." There's some spit sliding down his mouth, caused by the wet snort leaving his lips. Stiles wipes it away with the back of his sleeve, hearing the voice sighing from over the phone and muttering under his breath, "This is going to be a long night.."

Stiles nods his head, pointing his finger at the screen and _yelling_ at it. "Yes, it will be! Now you're going to shut up and listen to me and... and don't you dare hang up on me or I'll swear to God, I'll be coming over to your house and rip your throat--" Stiles trails off with a deep breath before adding in a threatening voice, "With my teeth!"

"Okay." He sounds amused. What the fuck? Stiles needs to step up his game because this asshole should be scared of him! Not laughing in his face! Who does he think he is?

"Okay, first of all, You're a piece of shit."

"Thank you."

"I told you to shut up! But, you're welcome! Anyway--" Stiles decided to ignore, for now, the amused chortle coming through the line, in favor of going on with his rage-filled venting, "I hope for the next horde of virgin guys you'll decide to lay your eyes on and defile in the back seats of your car, that by the way is just as sanitized as the bathrooms of the Jungle, that you're gonna mention to them that you're just as closeted as the ugly sweater that my grandma forces me to wear during Christmas family gatherings--" Stiles hears a strangled laugh coming from the boy. The gesture sends him even further into rage and just increases the urge to pull his hands through the phone and strangle him, "Oh do you think this is funny? Let me tell you what is indeed funny! Your dick! Which is as small as the pencil I use to draw my sketchs, which, by the way, has become smaller and more chewed throughout the years."   
  
"Wow. That's kinda a harsh thing to say--"

"Shut it! I'm not done with you yet! I didn't even like it that much regardless of what you keep telling people! I've had more fun with Buzzy."

"Buzzy?"

"Yeah! Buzzy the buzz."

"Oh God, you're drunk."

"Well, at least tomorrow I'll be sober while You'll remain the least endowed, most egocentric, most closeted, asshole in the whole world!"

Stiles' suddenly being dazzled by the blinding light coming from the hallway, as soon as someone slams the door of the wardrobe open. Scott looks at his with the eyebrow raised at the way Stiles' sitting on the dusted floor, his face barely visible from behind the multitude of coats and jackets hanging from the wire hangers.

"Stiles!" Scott pulls him off the ground by his wrist, before literally ripping Stiles' phone out of his hands. Stiles is looking at him completely dumbfounded like he's not really comprehending what is exactly happening, then his eyes slowly flick back to the phone in Scott's hands and on his finger quickly tapping on the screen as to end the call.

"I forgot to confiscate you this!" 

 

 

Stiles' eyes flutter open, the morning after and he finds himself cursing loudly, still wrapped like a cocoon in his comforter, at the stabbing pain hitting him and reverberating in his head like an endless loop that actually makes him want to crawl up in a ball and die. That sentiment only intensifies when his dad, uncaring of Stiles' beauty sleep getting interrupted, just bursts into his room and sits down on the further edge of his bed.

"I heard you puking your life down that toilet, earlier." The sheriff observes. Stiles just buries his face further into the pillow as to hide away from this conversation for the rest of his day. Too bad there's just not such a thing as to dodge the bullet with the sheriff.

"Had fun at the party?"

"Scott found my drunken ass in Lydia's wardrobe after I dialed a complete stranger and yelled at him for no reasons whatsoever."

 The worst thing is that Stiles remembers every. Single. Thing. 

"Sounds promising." His dad observes, doing absolutely nothing to hide the amused inflection in his voice, which makes Stiles pray for aliens to show up in this immediate moment and kidnap him, in order to avoid talking about the previous night.

"Can we not talk about this? At least until I'm ninety, old and rugged? Please?"

The sheriff gives a low chuckle before standing up from Stiles' bed. 

"Breakfast is ready."

"I'm on my way." Stiles tells him and sounds like he means it, but of course, his father has to point out the obvious.

"You're still in bed."

"Anyone needs a bit of mental preparation before leaving the bed in the morning, you know?"

The sheriff doesn't say anything, but Stiles knows him well enough to just know he's shaking his head at him. After a whole ten minutes of meditation, Stiles finally decides to get out of bed. He gives a loud yawn as he reaches for his phone on his nightstand, wondering in how many drunken pics he's been tagged, this time but surprisingly there are none. There's a notification, though. It's a text from an unknown number. Stiles' trembling finger taps on it as to open it and his breath catches in his throat reading the content of it.

"Hi! You probably don't remember me but I'm the _not Jordan_ from last night."

Stiles literally facepalms himself as he reads the following part with a small smile growing wider on his lips with each passing seconds. 

"Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Derek. I'm from Beacon Hills and you must have dialed the wrong number. Obviously. Because I literally don't know anyone with this strange name. It must be fate, I guess. This Jordan guy really sounds like an epic asshole and if you ever want me to rip his head off with my teeth--" Stiles actually laughs out loud, his eyes glimmering with light despite the early awakening and the throbbing pain hitting his whole body with every intake of breath. "Just give me a call. (possibly sober this time.) (If you want to give me a call for not murderous ends it's fine too.) -Derek."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter of this oneshot :) Thank you to anyone suggesting to continue this :) I honestly enjoyed writing it!
> 
> PS: Thank you to anyone reading, commenting and leaving kudos!

Stiles' been sprawled on the couch for the most part of the day, his phone clutched in his hand as thumb taps erratically on the screen a reply to Derek's text. The sheriff walks past him and, although he doesn't utter a single word out, Stiles' can read him like an open book. He dislodges his gaze from his phone, quite exceptionally as he waits for Derek's response, and meets his father's eyes, staring at him intently at him as he's been waiting for Stiles to finally register his presence in the room.

"Good morning, son."

"Hey, dad." Stiles waves his hand in a greeting salute, deeming his father worthy of his attention for like two and half seconds before his phone chimes with a new notification. The sheriff officially gives up on every attempt of engaging a conversation with his son, murmuring under his breath ' _Today's youth.”_ when Stiles, whose eyes are glued to the screen, lets out a small chuckle at Derek's over-detailed comment on the latest episode of Mr. Robot, filled with praises of adoration towards Rami Malek's handsomeness.

Stiles' sure his father is, as per usual, shaking his head at him but he's honestly too busy typing "You're adorable even when you bring out your fangirl side, _dork_." to make the effort to check.

 

It comes completely unexpected, but Stiles' would lie if he said that he hasn't been waiting for this moment since the day he's accidentally called a complete stranger, mistaking him for his former boyfriend.

His heart starts doing somersaults when Derek finally makes the first step.

"What are you doing this Friday?"

Stiles grins like the dork he is as he types back, "Going out with you?"

His heart picks up speed when Derek's reply comes through almost immediately. The thought of Derek waiting for his texts just as badly causes his chest to fill with warmth.

"LMAO. I'd like to! Thanks for asking!"

Stiles rolls his eyes but he's completely incapacitated to keep the huge smile spreading across his features at bay as he types back, "That's a date!”

 

"Okay, Scotty. One last time."

Scott flops himself down on Stiles' bed, letting out a loud groan of frustration.

"Stiles, I told you! Those are exactly the same!"

"Wh-- no, Scott! I told you that are just not the same!" Stiles points out, marching on steady steps towards the bed. "This--" and then he just rips the pillow covering Scott's eyes from his face and gracelessly throws it on the floor, shoving the red shirt in Scott's face. "This is cherry red. This other one is Velvet red."

Scott makes a sound between a strangled laugh and a cat being choked to death, "Jesus, those both look red to me!"

Stiles groans, raising his eyes to the ceiling as he mutters out, "You're useless! Why have you insisted on coming over and getting me ready for my date if you're doing nothing but laying there in a comatose state?"  
  
Scott lets out a guttural noise from his throat as he jerks up on Stiles' bed countering, with nose scrunched up in outrage, "You were the one who's been insisting!"

"I was not!" Stiles tells him, pointing a threatening finger at his chest "I specifically told you, ' _I'm going out on a date with Derek, tonight and I might be freaking out a little bit._ "

Scott actually facepalms himself as he pulls out his phone, shoving it in Stiles' face. "I Got the receipts, Stilinski! You wrote here, 'OMFG DUDE IT'S HAPPENING I'M ABOUT TO GO OUT ON A DATE WITH DEREK." Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott goes on, "Then you wrote something unintelligible here-- what does even _I'm SHOOK,_ mean?"

"Oh, Scotty... Just do some research and join the 21st century, already!" Stiles whines, closing his eyes and rubbing his eyeballs in utter _exhaustion._

"CAN'T BREATHE. ME. DEREK. DATE. TONIGHT. HOLD ME." Scott gives him the stinky eye as he decides to skip the unnecessary amount of times Stiles' overused the phrase "I'm shook." "COME OVER OR I'LL NEVER PUT IN A GOOD WORD WITH ALISON."

"Well, as far as I can see you've decided to come over, eventually. ". Stiles points out with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You threatened me!"

"As if I needed to! You're my best friend! We share joy and pain!"

"Sure." Scott snorts with a roll of his eyes, "Must be it."

  
After a long and painstaking contemplation, Stiles decides to wear the cherry red plaid shirt because he genuinely loves the color. It's _vibrant_ , _warm_ and gives him a boost of self-confidence, besides, it remembers Stiles of _love_.

"I like this one." Scott tells him, smiling at him through the reflection of his long length mirror. Stiles just shrugs, pulling a face as he admits, "The other one had a stain of tomato on."

His phone chimes with a new pop-up notification that causes Stiles to jump out of his skin. He reaches for his phone and sucks a breath at the content of the text.

He looks at Scott, who looks just as tensed up as him, "He's here."

  
Stiles nods, unable to form words at the moment. It's good to save some of them for his date with Derek, he concludes as he makes his way downstairs, followed by Scott.

"You can do this." Scott tells him once they come to a stop to the front door.

"I can do this." Stiles nods, wondering if he's trying to convince Scott or himself.

Scott gives a gentle squeeze to his shoulders, searching for Stiles' eyes. Then, when Stiles finally looks at him, Scott just repeats the exact same words with firmer, more confident tone in his voice giving the boost of courage he needed.

_"You can do this."_

  
Scott trails after him as he makes his way to the sporty, quite intimidating Camaro pulled in his driveway and the _extremely_ good looking boy, whose pictures didn't make him justice at all, leaning against the car door with just as naturalness as a model straight out of a Vogue's photo shoot.

"Holy Jesus in the manger." Stiles can't breathe because seriously... what the hell?

"Don't say shit like these." Scott mutters into his ear before patting him on his back, "Gotta go, now. Good luck, man."

"Yeah." Stiles clears his throat in a way to swallow the lump formed.

What is Derek even? Standing like that, all charming in his black leather jacket and dark slacks stretched over his long legs. Stiles cracks a weak smile as he walks to the living adonis, giving himself one of his best pep-talk.  _"Don't faint. Don't faint. Don't faint."_

"Hello."

Derek's voice is something else. It's Raspy but not too rough. He sounds like someone who has just woken up from his nap, Stiles observes as he clears his throat and holds out his hand, regretting the gesture almost immediately.  _"What is this? A business meeting?"_  

He's almost tempted to shake his head at the insane monologue happening in his head, right now. It's completely Derek's fault if he's having a hard time connecting his brain to mouth filter.

"Nice to meet you." He manages to say, "In person, I mean."

"Yeah." Derek agrees, a small smile playing on his lips allow Stiles to get a glimpse of his adorable bunny teeth as he says, "The pleasure is all mine."

  
Derek asks him if he'd like to go somewhere in particular. Stiles, still unable to trust his voice, just shakes his head. He climbs into the passenger seat of the car with carefulness and attention; It looks like the typical kind of car that costs more than his house. Derek climbs into the driver seat and after buckling their belts, he turns to look at Stiles, who finds the outdoor's landscape very appealing, apparently. Derek has to clear his throat in order to get his full attention.

Stiles finally looks at him and has to keep himself from leaning over the console and brush his finger over Derek's itchy-looking beard. God. What is wrong with him?

"... if that's okay with you."

Stiles blinks, realizing that he's been too busy staring in awe at Derek's beard so he hasn't grasped any of what he's been saying.

"W-what?"

Derek doesn't look pissed, just.. his face kind of scrunches up in a frown for a long moment before giving a small, resigned sigh, "I asked you if you'd like to go to the movies or something."

"Oh." That's what Derek asked him! Of course! "Sure!"

Finally, a genuine smile takes over Derek's features and Stiles couldn't honestly feel more relieved.

 

A mutual silence coming from both ends last throughout the whole ride from Stiles's house to one block away from the theater. Then, Derek breaks the silence by asking, completely out of the blue, "Who was that guy?"

Stiles turns his face to look at him, a puzzled look on his face. "What guy?"

"The guy that came with you from the front door of your house? Who was that?"

"Oh." Stiles gives a small laugh, making a dismissing wave with his hand, "That's just Scott."

Derek looks at him with an eyebrow raised, almost expecting for Stiles to give him some background informations about who Scott is, where does he go to school to, how old is he, how intimate their relationship is, if he needs to have a word with him or that's just not the case. But no, Stiles doesn't elaborate any further, so to Derek it's _just Scott_. Fucking great.

"Is he your brother?"

Stiles pulls a face, followed by an amused laugh escaping his lips. "What? No! He's my best friend."

Derek nods, his fingers clenching just slightly around the steering wheel. "Okay, then."

Derek restrains himself from asking, "How close exactly you and _this_ Scott are?" But he can't bring himself to push the words out. It's their first date, after all, and he doesn't want that the first impression of Derek is to be a jealous freak. Besides, if Stiles says he's his best friend, Derek wants to believe that.

  
They make their way into the back rows of the theater. Neither of them says a word but it doesn't take a genius to guess what kind of thought it's crossing their minds at the moment.

"I hope you don't mind if I picked the last row."  
Stiles smiles, shaking his head. "Dude. Everyone knows that you get the better view from the back."

Derek's smirk is visible through the darkness of the room, probably thinking that it's not exactly what people say about the last rows.

Stiles stuffs a fistful of popcorn into his mouth, chewing loudly and making porn sounds as he licks the salt off the digits. 

Stiles really _does_ like popcorn.

Derek noticed from the way he was staring at the cashier stuffing them in a small bowl before handing it over to a little girl standing in line with her mom. Derek noticed Stiles' eyes lit up with joy when he asked him, " _Want to share a bowl?_ " and swore that Stiles looked like he was ready to jump his bones, for a moment, but then he regained his composure and settled for a small nod of his head, "Yeah. I'd like to."

Derek is not really into junk food. See, He's more like the kind of person that orders a salad at McDonald's under the stupefied looks on the cashier's face, but he'd endure any kind of junk food sliding down his throat if he'd get to witness that happy smile flashing across Stiles' features. 

If that means sharing a bowl of popcorn with him and revel in the way their hands brush against into the bowl as they reach for the same handful of popcorn, well, that's worth every workout that's gonna wait for him, tomorrow.

 

"Could you stop staring at me like I'm a mutant with three heads?"

Stiles smirks around the straw of his Coca-Cola, slurping loudly than necessary. Derek shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to dodge himself from the way Stiles' eyes are piercing right through him, silently judging him for his meal's choice.

"Salad." He mutters out almost incredulously. Derek just rolls his eyes, picking at food with his fork. "You ordered a salad."

"Yeah." Derek sighs, sounding exhausted.' "It's a salad. With red leaf lettuce, crisp chopped romaine and guess what? Even baby kale.”

"But dude... we're at McDonald's."

"I'm well aware of that. Yes."

"And you ordered a salad." Stiles can't get enough of remarking how weird that is to him. "It's like going to a concert and spending the whole night with earbuds on."

"I can't see what is so wrong with ordering a salad.” Derek sounds frustrated but the smile on his face betrays him. “It's still considered as food."

"Healthy food." Stiles' nose scrunches up in almost disdain, causing Derek to exhale a breathless laugh because,  _this dude._ "Have you seen the look on that girl's face when you ordered a salad?"

"Yes." Derek sighs, "I saw that, Stiles."

"She looked like anyone but you has ever made such a peculiar order."

"I don't think so." Derek tells him with a roll of his eyes before taking a sip from his bottle of water. Plain water, of course.

Stiles looks thoroughly amused by all the teasing and Derek would lie if he said he's not enjoying every second of it.

"Stiles?"

Stiles suddenly goes stiff, his smile faltering a bit from his face as soon as he recognizes the voice calling his name. Stiles turns around and once his eyes scan the area, he waves quite awkwardly at someone sitting in a booth not that much further than theirs. Derek follows the direction of Stiles' hand and spots a face he instantly decides he wants to punch, but again, he refrains from letting his jealous flair to screw his chances with Stiles.

He just keeps his mouth shut, watching Stiles as he straightens back on his seat.

Going by the way, Stiles' tenses up and avoids his gaze, is clear that there's history between them.

Derek wants to ask and for a second his lips part, actually determined to blurt the words out but then Stiles beats him to the punch.

"That's Jordan."

Derek kind of suspected it but hearing it from Stiles is a whole different story.

“Oh...”

It's a lame answer. Derek knows that. But honestly, what Derek can even say to Stiles but a feeble, "Are you okay?"

That's what matters the most, after all. Derek's even more inclined to get his ass out of his chair and punch him in the groin, now that the light and playful atmosphere is gone because of him.

"Yeah."

It saddens him how Stiles suddenly seems to shut down to him.

"You didn't sound okay when you called me." Derek then corrects himself, "When you thought it was him."

"I was drunk.." Stiles looks uncomfortable on his seat, right now and Derek wants more than ever to grab him out of his seat and wrap his arms around him.

"You know what they say about drunken truths.."

Stiles gives a nod of his head because yeah, that's true. Anything he's said to Derek was nothing but the truth. "I was a virgin. I.. I mean, yeah I wasn't before him but I never--"

"Had penetrative sex?" Derek tries to help him out since he sounds a bit of a loss of breath, right now.

"Yeah.."

"He was so fucking convincing.. when.. when he told me how precious I was to him and.. all the plans we made.. I felt so stupid when I realized that he was just playing games with me. I _still_ do, sometimes when I happen to think about it."

"You're not stupid." Derek tells him and sounds like he means every word of it when he tells him. "You're kind of an amazing dork."

Stiles beats Derek to the punch when he reaches for his hand from over the table, but it's Derek who takes the plunge and intertwines their fingers together.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." Derek, _again,_ means it. Stiles can tell from the way his eyes go soft at the question slipping from Stiles' lips, the corners of his lips twitching in a small smile as he'd be willing to hear anything Stiles has to say.

"I was freaking the hell out about tonight."

Derek chuckles at the admission, a soft blush rising in his cheeks indicates that, maybe, he wasn't the only one stressing over this date. "No, like seriously! You can ask Scott! I went full diva on him asking what color looked better on me!"

"This color looks pretty good on you." Derek observes.

Stiles' cheeks turn pink at the compliment dripping sweetly off Derek's tongue, murmuring a bashful, "Thanks." In response.

"You too. I think you'd look hot in any colors."

"Thanks." Derek beams at him with those adorable teeth in full display. _God._

Stiles is so gone for this dork.

 

 

Stiles starts making whining noises from his throat as soon as the Camaro pulls in his driveway, dreading the moment when he'll have to say goodnight to Derek.

Derek gives a low sigh as he turns the engine off, turning to look at Stiles. Being met by the distressed look growing wider on his face with each passing second does nothing but increase the urge creeping within him to lean over the console and kiss that pout away.

"Can I walk you to the door?" 

Stiles nods so vehemently that his neck creaks at some point but he doesn't care because he gets to spend few more minutes with Derek.

He walks painfully slow towards the door. Derek notices, but of course, he doesn't make a quip out of it. He, indeed, walks just as slow but the door is right there and soon, they reach the oh, so dreaded destination.

Stiles imposes himself to not blush under Derek's intensive gaze but he fails miserably as everyone probably would predict. Derek takes one tentative step and holds him by his hips. Stiles' heart absolutely does not race at the contact between their bodies. 

"I had fun tonight." Derek sighs, brushing his thumb over Stiles' hip and causing him to jump a little bit as soon as his thumb makes contact with Stiles' most ticklish spot. 

"Me too." Stiles means it with every fiber of his weak bones. He probably has never had this fun on a date before and it's all on Derek.

"I want to see you again." Stiles doesn't require it necessary to add 'as soon as possible'. He doesn't want to look clingy, but hell, He certainly hopes so.

"Me too, Stiles." 

Derek kisses him, softly and gentle as the perfect gentleman he is and it's more than an incentive for Stiles to wrap his arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. Derek pulls him flush against his body, kissing him deeper and reveling in the soft noises Stiles makes against his mouth as he gets lost in the kiss. 

Derek pulls away from him, smiling at the noise of displeasure Stiles makes. 

"Greedy." Derek comments before pressing their lips together in a brief kiss.

"Dude." Stiles' ability to talk goes beyond  the lack of air in lungs, "Shut up and kiss me." 


	3. Chapter 3

 

"You don't have to come... but _if_ you did you'd make this guy really, really happy. But again, if you feel like it's too soon to meet my friends, I'd totally understand! I'll go to this thing and try to not curl myself into a ball into the darkest corner and mope over couples grinding against each other and--"

"Stiles." Stiles hides the mischievous smirk by burying his face into the crook of Derek's neck, breathing his musky, manly, sexy, intoxicating, scent.

"Making out right in front of me-- yes, honey boo?”

A groan of irritation rumbles in Derek's throat as he utters out, "Do not call me that _ever_ again."

"Okay, okay." Stiles chortles against his neck, pressing one feather kiss on Derek's pulsing point, causing his breath to catch in his throat. Derek lets out a wounded noises at the way Stiles' lips move softly, chastely and deliberately over his sweet spot causing warm shivers, intense as electric shocks, to burst across his whole body, making him hiss and ache for more at the same time.

"You know what buttons to push, don't you?"

Derek can feel that devious smirk pressing against the column of his neck as Stiles breathes out feebly. "I have no idea what you're talking about.."

"Liar.." Derek moans softly when Stiles' pink tongue darts out to suck on his earlobe, eliciting some shivers of pleasure to crawl up his spine at the wetness twining around his lobe. _"Asshole.."_

Stiles gives a low chuckle when the desired effect is obtained. God bless those times when Stiles' father's on a night shift and they get to do this, just feeling each other with no rush or pressure, whatsoever, because Derek is a perfect gentleman who, since their first date, has never, _ever,_ rushed Stiles in taking the next step into their relationship. This, feeling Derek and listening to Derek's soft moans playing like music to his ears, _and okay_ , being a cocktease is just perfect, right now.

"Keep going.. you know it turns me on when you call me that."

Derek's eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to chase the slow-burning friction by rolling his hips against Stiles, drawing lazy circles on his boyfriend's back. "You're so weird."

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyway as he makes an important, yet accurate, remark, "But you like me anyway so the joke's on you."

Derek chuckles, letting his eyes to flutter close as he melts into the gentle ministration of Stiles' fingers playing with hair.

"I really, really do.."

Stiles makes a soft humming noise in his throat before cupping Derek's rosy cheeks and pressing a close-lipped kiss on his mouth.

"I like you too."

"I can feel exactly how much.."

Stiles' cheeks flush pink as he immediately moves his, _well,_ friend, precedently humping Derek's leg. Derek's eyes shoot open, a pout growing on his face as he whines, "I liked that.."

“Will you come?”

“I certainly hope so.” Derek grins, even more, when the flush on Stiles' cheeks turns _crimson_.

“I meant to the party... _asshole_.” Stiles deadpans with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh well... it's kinda _hard_ for me to say no at this point, right?”

“Could you stop with the puns and give me an answer?” Stiles groans, burying his face into the crook of Derek's neck, where his lips _casually_ find his pulsing point.

“Okay, okay! I'll come!”

 

 

Derek's hand is firmly being held by Stiles' as they make their way into the overcrowded living room. Derek has to lean in and yell in Stiles' ear in order to be able to communicate with him over the booming music playing through the speakers so loudly that makes the wall tremble. "Where are we, again?"

"My best friend Scott's friend of a friend's house!"

"Wh--" Derek decides to shut up. It's useless to keep talking like this. He just holds on to deal life to Stiles' hand guiding him through the horde of people and prays the Lord to not let anyone puke over his brand new shoes, tonight.  
Derek spots someone waving at them, at Stiles, mostly. It's the same guy with dark soft-looking hair and slightly crooked jaw that left Stiles' house with him before their date. Overall, he seems nice. His smile seems genuine and warm looking and Derek can sense a strong feeling of protection reeking of him as they make their way towards him.

Derek let his jealous flair to take over at first. Even after their date, Derek kept asking Stiles questions about Scott, until one day Stiles snapped at his persistence. That's the main reason why Stiles insisted on dragging him to this party in the first place.

 

"Hi!" As soon as they get to him, Derek's hand is being abruptly dropped by Stiles' as Scott pulls his best friend into a brief side hug. Then he addresses to Derek, holding out his hand. "Hey, man."

Stiles tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, just slightly, in order to get Derek's attention, then he clears his throat, unable to keep the smile at bay as he introduces the two of them with nervousness filling his voice. "Derek this is my best friend, Scott. Scott this is my boyfriend, Derek."

"It's nice to finally meet you.

" Scott really sounds like he mean it, much to Derek's relief. He really wants, for the sake of his relationship with Stiles, to get along with Scott.

"Yeah, me too."

Derek has to admit that Scott has a firm, nice handshake. Derek's eyes flicker to Stiles' face getting close to Scott's ear, then he whispers with wicked light in his eyes, softly, as he's telling Scott a secret "He likes to order salads at McDonald's."

Derek's cheeks turn pink as he utters through an awkward wince on his face. "Stiles... what the--"

"Just trying to break the ice!"

"Don't mind him, dude. Just because his body is made by 65% of junk food, he believes that any healthy food is completely invalid."

"That's not true!" Stiles gasps in utter outrage, "I do like vegetables! huh.. let me see... oh! I like Carrots!"

Derek actually facepalms himself, eliciting a wave of laughter to escape from Scott's lips, who bites on his bottom lip, actually trying to maintain his composure, unlike from Derek who's still snickering, the air light and playful until a girl's voice coming from behind, ruins the mood.

"What a nice piece of carrot we have here..." Derek turns around to the perpetrator of the voice. He doesn't even make it in time to ask who the hell this girl is when Stiles, trying to assess damages, rushes to hold him by his forearm. "Lydia, be nice.."

"Ohh." Her cherry red lips fall open in an O as she nudges Stiles in the hip, asking to him about Derek just like he's not standing two meters away from them, “Is this the infamous Derek Hale you can't stop talking about?"

"Yes.. and I don't talk about him that much." Stiles murmurs, a delicate blush rising in his cheeks.

Derek shoots him a look as to say 'Hello? I'm right here!”

The girl named Lydia finally deems him worthy of her gaze. This time, she addresses to him with eyebrow arched up and smitten look on her face as she says. "God Forbid if we don't hear your name at least twenty times a day!" Then she holds out her freshly manicured hand and charmingly introduces herself, "Lydia Martin. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Derek Hale." Derek simply replies, shaking her hand. His eyebrow shoot up when Lydia makes a dismissive wave of her hand and counters smugly, "Oh, I know _everything_ about you! Including your weight, height, shades of eyes--"

"Lydia.." Stiles tries to stop her from saying one more word but no one puts Lydia in a corner. That's just fact.

"I know all about your habits and your, uh, _peculiar_ meal choice at Mcdonald's."

Derek gapes at that, his eyes shooting to Stiles with a frown of irritation flashing across his features. "Did you tell everyone?"

“No...” Stiles' lies. Much to Derek's gratefulness Lydia saves the day.

"Yes." Lydia cuts him off, scrunching her nose up in a confused wince.

"Not like everyone, _everyone. W_ hat? Don't give me that look! I want to feel free to brag about my boyfriend!"

“Do you tell them how many times I go to the bathroom?” Derek's _obviously_ kidding but then again, Lydia's voice douses him as a cold shower when she pipes in, once again, in a conversation that never revolved around her in the first place.

“No, but he did tell us about the snaps you like to send Stiles when you do. Really, Derek? That's just tacky.”

Stiles groans, raising his eyes to the ceiling and mouthing an inaudible, "You do enjoy making my life a living hell, don't you?" then, God probably takes Stiles' words as a personal challenge because, the moment after that, he finds a pair of familiar eyes staring straight at him from the other side of the room.

_"Fucking great."_

 

  

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Derek notices almost immediately that there's something bothering Stiles, going by the way he closes off to anyone, Derek included.

“Stiles?”

Stiles' pupils are clearly dilated when he looks back at his boyfriend, the corners of his lips curving down in a small, twitchy frown. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

Stiles bites on his bottom lip as he nods his head, cracking a quite nonconvincing smile in return. “Yeah! yeah! Sure. Uh, I just remembered I havr to come back home early cause my father lost his key--”

“Stiles.” Derek cuts him off gently, lifting his chin so that Stiles's somehow forced to stare into those deep, dark eyes. “I'll drive you home whenever you want but, if there's something bothering you--”

“No.” Stiles sadly realizes how edgy his voice sounds as soon as words slip from his tongue. “Why would I want to leave this party for any other reasons?”

“I don't know.” Derek replies honestly, shrugging his shoulders. “You tell me.”

Stiles' gaze gets lost in the middle of the crowd for a long moment, then he exhales feebly almost as he's muttering to himself. “I have to go home.”

"Okay." Derek honestly doesn't know what else there's left to say. Stiles barely even looks at him after that, figures if he'd be able to force words out of him when he's clearly uneasy, right now. "I'm going to the bathroom before we go, okay?"

Stiles nods, throwing a brief look from over his shoulders. The gesture doesn't go unnoticed by his boyfriend who's growing more confused and suspicious as seconds go by.

Derek realizes he has no idea where the bathroom is, or who should he ask to since he's in a complete stranger's house. He'll ask around, he decides. He spots a group of people chatting and laughing among themselves and he wonders if least one of them has to know where the bathroom is.

"Uh, sorry. Any of you knows where the bathroom is?"

"I'll show you." an amused voice comes from behind him. Derek turns around and suddenly his pulse races when he finds himself glaring at someone he recognizes as the boy that waved at his boyfriend during their first date at McDonald's. It's _dickface_ Jordan and he's smirking at him as he knows exactly what kind of thoughts are crossing Derek's mind right now, featuring his fist colliding with his pronounced jaw. Jordan's eyes narrow slightly as he's trying to remember when he's met Derek before, then he points a finger in his direction and says, "You're Stiles' boyfriend."

"I am." Derek confirms with a firm edge in his voice, reveling in the way Jordan's face fall when he fakes an apologetic frown. "I don't think Stiles ever mentioned you, though."

Jordan shifts uncomfortably on his spot for the briefest second, then he just shrugs coolly. "I guess he's been too busy getting _it_ in the ass to be able to engage a simple conversation about the past significant others..”

The moment Derek's ears catch those words, his eyes flash red and his body move his own accord like he doesn't own any control over the urges to get his hands on this brat. His hands, indeed, grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam his skinny frame against the nearest wall, causing the whole room to burst in a wave of gasps and murmurs around them.

Derek tightens his grip on the boy's collar, tempted to smash that smirk away when he's being suddenly being grabbed backward by Stiles' hands, clutching around the fabric of his jacket and crying out in a pleading voice, "Derek! Derek, let him go!"

He just shrugs off Stiles' touch and growls in the boy's face. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Jordan just laughs bitterly in his face so _dangerously_ close to Derek's that they're able to feel each other's breath. "Nothing but the truth."

Derek's hand grabs him by his throat, ignoring the cry of his name coming from behind.

 _"Derek. Let_ him go. He's not worth it."

Derek throws him a look from over his shoulder, finally deeming Stiles of his attention and murmuring through gritted teeth, "Is this why you wanted to go?"

Stiles doesn't answer the question that Derek just asked him. He just lowers down his gaze, apologetically as he tries to work on his unsteady breath.

That's the only answer Derek needs right now.

"Look at you. All flushed and ashamed like a whore." Jordan snickers, hissing in pain when Derek's first collides with his stomach causing his body to double over.

"Shut up before I kick you in the balls."

"Derek, please! Let him go!"

"When you said you wanted to go because your father needed the key was just a lie, wasn't it?"

Stiles sucks a breath as he nods his head, shame oozing from every pore. Derek hates seeing Stiles this miserable and for the first time, today, he regrets coming to this party with him because now he probably feels just as miserable. Derek breathes heavily through his nose as he nods. He walks past Stiles on steady steps and heads towards the front door. At least he knows the way to the exit, he thinks bitterly, feeling a bit guilty for not being able to say goodbye to Stiles' friends, but right now he really needs to _not_ be here.

"Derek! Derek! Wait! Please, wait!"

Derek hasn't even realized he's come to a stop to where he's parked his car, until he hears Stiles' pleading voice calling his name and turns around. Stiles is running towards him with short breath and rosy cheeks, way more flushed than a few minutes ago, Derek observes.

"What do you want?"

It comes out harsher than Derek intends it to be, causing his chest to constrict at the hurt look flashing across Stiles' face as soon as the words slip down his tongue.

Stiles comes to a stop in front of him, catching his breath as he utters out between pants, "P-Please, stay or.. or I.. I'm coming with you. I don't-- I d-don't want to stay here without you."

Under other circumstances, those words would have rocked Derek's heart but in this case, it does nothing but increase the level of anger firing up from the pitch of his stomach, "Oh, _now_ you want to stay? Now that I called you on your lie?"

"D-Derek..."

Derek doesn't even let him begin to condone himself, he just abruptly pipes in.

"Do you think I'm a fool, Stiles? I _knew j_ ust by looking at your face that you were lying to me! I just didn't realize why until I came face to face with that scumbag.." Derek closes his eyes as he runs his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy breath of frustration. Stiles doesn't dare to utter one single word because from the way Derek's breathing, slow and long, there's probably something more he needs to say.

"You could have told me." Derek tells him with a severe pitch in his voice and arms crossed against his chest. "I would have taken you out of here the exact moment you asked me. I... I do not appreciate when someone lies to me, Stiles. This is _not_ how a relationship works."

"Are you.." Stiles trails off on a wounded noise coming from his throat at the sole thought of pushing those words out, because once he vocalizes them Derek might say yes and this could be all over and Stiles doesn't want to. He really doesn't want this to be over. He likes Derek so much that his heart is kind of shattering in his chest in a million of pieces at this exact moment. He gulps down saliva and finally gathers the courage he needed to utter the question out. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Something flashes across Derek's eyes, then the harsh lines on his face somehow soften, just a little bit as he breathes out, "No, I'm not breaking up with you, but I'd like to go home now."

"Okay.." Stiles cracks a nervous smile, waving his hand in the direction of Derek's car. "Let's go."

"Alone." Derek points out.

"What?"

Derek doesn't move. He just gives this long, weary sigh and tells him, "I think you should ask Scott for a ride."

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It's been three days, four hours and twenty-four, _ish_ , seconds. Stiles is not sure about the last one, but _still._ It's been days since he's last heard from Derek and the dark foreboding creeping through him that Derek may actually break up with him, keeps getting more and more abiding in his mind. He's tried to call Derek once, _okay_ scratch that; He's been trying to call Derek at any time of the day so far, his desperation borderline obsessive at this stage.

  
"He probably needs some time.." Lydia tells him with a voice that actually sounds humane, which actually helps to soothe the stabbing pain in his chest whenever he thinks of how bad he's screwed it up. Again.

"Oh, honey.."

Okay, that's just _creepy._

"Look, Lydia. I appreciate that you're trying to comfort me but _I'm begging you_ , enough with that voice."

"What voice?" Lydia inquiries with sharper, high pitched and genuine edge in his voice.

"The _'Oh honey...”_ voice."

"That-- that's not what my voice sound like, at all!" She shoots back.

"Still. I like your _ice queen voice_ just fine."

Lydia gives this exaggeratingly loud sigh and pursues her lips as she asks, "Okay then. You want me to cut the bitch out?"

Stiles actually laughs this time, loud and wet and desperate. God, he's _so_ desperate. He reaches for the ginger haired girl and pulls her into a hug. Lydia might be a cold hearted bitch to the whole universe but everyone knows that she got a soft spot for Stiles.

"I really do love you for your bloodlust sometimes, you know?"

Lydia gives this self-loving sigh into his ear and says, "What can I say? I'm amazing. I actually wonder what your life would be like without me in it."

Stiles rolls his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face as he says, "God, your ego is just as big as Scott's adoration for Allison. Anyway, Let me fix that for you. _Awww, thanks, Stiles! I love you too._ "

"You know I do, you silly idiot. Anyway, since Derek won't return your calls--"

"Thank you for the reminder, Lydia." Stiles deadpans with a roll of his eyes, pulling away from the embrace.

"Why wouldn't you just go check on him at his place?"

Well, that would actually be a brilliant idea if only Stiles knew where Derek lives. He tells Lydia just as much followed by a loud cry of exhaustion that quickly is being shut off by Lydia's nails digging into his arm. For the briefest moment, the hurt caused by her perfect manicured nails is actually more painful that his heart wound.

"Man up, Stiles!"

"I just have a lot of feelings!" Stiles spits back through an injured moan coming from his throat.

"How is that even possible that you're not provided with his address?"

"It never came up? He just mentioned something about taking his sister's dog for his daily walk to the main park near suburbia.” Stiles sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. Lydia just rolls her eyes as she taps her foot, her arms crossed against her chest and the look in her eyes of someone who's thinking of an idea that will most likely put them in trouble. Then, her eyes suddenly lit up with something frisky flashing across them and that's honestly the confirmation Stiles' been dreading.

Something awful is bound to happen.

"I got an idea."

 

 

It's incredibly easy to find the residential neighborhood Stiles _thinks_ Derek lives in.

As they quietly walk down the sidewalk, Stiles lets his gaze to wander over all these cute terraced houses, in hopes of spotting Derek's Camaro. Stiles would even settle for kissing the ground he's walking on, if he's ever going to spot the the Hale's mailbox, sometime today.

"It must be one of these houses..." Lydia mutters under her breath, her eyes narrowing slightly as she reads the name on a mailbox. “ _Ale._ Are you kidding me?”

“These houses look all the same to me."

Stiles hisses in pain when Lydia punches him on the arm, moaning as he rubs the injured part. "What was that for?"

"I swear to God If you don't stop complaining like a wimp.."

"I wasn't aware you had knowledge of such unladylike terminology, Lydia.."

"Oh honey, you'd be surprised by what comes out of this mouth."

"Yeah.. I.. I don't need the visual." Stiles murmurs under his breath.

His eyes go wide when he spots a familiar car in the distance with the same wonder of a thirsty man who's just found water in the desert.

"It's the Camaro!"

"The what?"

Stiles often forgets that _all_ Lydia knows about cars is that are vehicles with wheels. She still insists on calling the Jeep “the can of tuna with wheels” which has always left Stiles quite perplexed because _Jeep_ is so damn easier to pronounce. Anyway, he's given up on trying to understand Lydia's world a long time ago. "His _car,_ Lydia!"

 

 

Stiles has this huge dorky smile on his face as they make their way towards the car. Lydia swipes her finger over the length of the car's door, whistling at how shiny it looks. Stiles just stares at her, wondering if Lydia's aware that cars are supposed to be washed once in a while; From the look of astonishment on her face, he supposes the answer is no.

"Woah, the windows are tinted." Stiles feels extremely uncomfortable when she looks up with that mischievous look of her on her face and winks at him, causing his cheeks to turn pink in embarrassment. Then she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and says, voice thick with mischief, "Has Derek already shown you the magic of the back seats?"

"Oh God. Please.”

Lydia is probably not aware of how serious Stiles is. She keeps smirking at him with that allusive look on her face and wiggling eyebrows. Stiles can't put up with her sometimes, especially when Stiles' soul-destroying love record is concerned.

"That's what you told Derek?"

Stiles knows Lydia's just kidding but he can't ignore the allusion behind those words. It makes his pulse race on the assumption that he and Derek must have done that. Because that's what people think of him, right? It makes sense to just assume, since he's met a quite numerous horde of guys in the past few years. Too bad he's had sex with just _one_ boy, and look how it ended.

People just judge the book by its cover, not making an exception for his friends. To the whole world, S for _Slut_ is the scarlatt letter he's bound to wear until the end of time.

"Why is that so incredibly surprising that Derek and I haven't done any of that stuff, yet?"

"Stiles.." Lydia's smile falls off her face, realizing how grave Stiles' voice sounds. 

"Everyone keeps assuming I'm that giant whore, Jesus."

"Stiles?"

Both Stiles and Lydia turn around to the distinctive sound of Derek's voice, high pitched and surprised to say the least, to find them standing outside his house. Stiles exhales a deep breath, trying to work on the erratic beats of his hearts pounding in his chest as soon as his eyes lock with Derek's.

"What are you doing here?"

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Stiles, w-what's going on? Why are you here?" 

  
Derek doesn't sound mad. He looks more completely baffled by Stiles' presence in his backyard. Then he's momentarily distracted by Lydia's finger, still brushing over the car's bodywork, and shoots a disapproving look in her way that makes her pull her hand away as quickly as she's just been burnt by fire.

"I was hoping we could talk.." Derek's eyes are drawn back to Stiles' and gives him this look, the  _'I needed space and you didn't respect that'_  look and everything Stiles meant to say, the whole speech he's prepared in his mind throughout the whole ride, just fades away leaving him with a feeling of belittlement towards his own behaviour growing heavier on his chest with each passing second. What he was supposed to say to Derek is basically summed up in one basic concept, "I like you. You like me. I screwed up. Give me another chance to make it up to you?" But Stiles has just now realized that his clinginess, his way to unconsciously rush things out as soon a boy seems to give him a crumb of attention is the denominator factor in every of his failed relationship, so far.

"Stiles?" Stiles finds himself blinking when Derek's quiet voice snaps him back from the waves of raging thoughts spinning through his mind at the moment.

 

"Yeah, uh. Look, I had this whole speech in my mind but I just realized that's not what I want to say."

"Okay, just say it then." Derek tells him quietly, his brows coming together in a frown.

Stiles' chest lifts with a heavy breath leaving his lungs as he's trying to collect his thoughts. It's easier said than done.

"I like you, Derek. I.. I like you very much."

Derek just stares in utter silence as he's giving Stiles the chance to say what he wants to say without any interruptions. Derek's most likely aware of the wild storm of uncollected thoughts spinning in Stiles' mind, right now.

"Sometimes.. in the past, mostly. I've grown attached faster than I should have to the boys I've met.” He begins to say, trailing on a breath when he notices Derek's frown deepening in confusion. “Yes, I know that this isn't probably helping my case--”

"Stiles, I'm not mad at you for that." Derek rushes to say, interrupting his speech for the first time since he's got caught into the rambling mess of words.

"You are not?" Derek notices the way Stiles' shoulders relaxes and can't bring himself but shake his head with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he admits, "No. I like your clinginess. It makes me feel wanted and.. as you noticed, I'm a rare specimen of clingy alpha-man, as well."

"You are." Stiles rushes to clarify, a hint of a blush creeping over his cheeks as he adds, "Uh, sorry. Go on.."

"Look, I don't think this is the most appropriate place to discuss this. Besides, I want to _talk._ "

Lydia gives him an expectant look that makes Derek sigh, "You and I with _no audience._ "

Lydia glares, then she just keeps staring down at her phone where she's erratically tapping her finger on the screen. Probably texting someone. Jackson. Or the whole Twitter community about this conversation. _Probably both._

"So that means.."

"Yes. I forgive you." Derek takes a small step towards him and Stiles doesn't even wait for Derek to say anything more before closing the distance between their bodies. Derek gives this sigh contentedness before lacing his arms around Stiles' waist.

“I'm sorry.” Stiles breathes out against the column of his neck where his face is buried.

Derek nods before pressing a light kiss in his hair. "Don't lie to me ever again, not even for stupid, meaningless things. I don't want there to be any secrets between us, okay?"

"Yes." Stiles promptly replies.

Derek smiles against his hair, marking a quite important remark that just needs to be said.

“And don't blow my phone with hundreds of call ever again or I'll swear to God I'll block your number."

Stiles just nods, tangling his fingers into his hair and playing with the strands. God, he's missed Derek's hair.

"I'm sorry. That was definitely a creepy move. I'm sorry for channeling my inner drama queen. I just.. I really like you and I was scared that I've screwed up all my chances with you before even having the opportunity to make it up for my mistake."

"Stiles, really. That's okay.. I would have called you sooner but I'm been swamped with work at my father's firm."

"Is he still trying to make your life a living hell?"

"Yeah, he likes to call it _tough love._ " Derek grimaces, drawing lazy circles on Stiles' hip. "Anyway.. when are you going to make it up to me?"

Stiles lifts his face and beans at him, bright and happy as he bounces on the balls of his feet. "Okay so, I've been planning our next date and It's gonna be a Hale of a night!"

Derek raises an eyebrow in amusement, cocking his head to the side as he asks, "Were you assuming I was going to forgive you?"

"No.. but I was hoping you would." Stiles admits with a cheeky smile on his face that honestly, makes Derek's heart stutter in his chest. God, he's so weak for this guy.

"Good guess. Second of all, _Hale of a night_?"

"That's clever, right?" Stiles grins, "Hale? Hell? You got that?"

"Yeah, I can't believe you just said that."

Derek rolls his eyes at this boy's tantrums, a small smile forming on his lips as he hears Stiles' say, 

"We'll be okay." 

"We'll be okay.." Derek repeats the same words, letting his eyes to flutter shut and holding him flush against his body.

Stiles lets out a loud sigh of relief as soon as he steps into his house. His father still hasn't come home from work and he decides to surprise him with pizza, tonight. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts dialing the pizza planet's number when suddenly, the phone vibrates into his hands. It's a text from Derek and as usual for Derek's anything related, he can't keep the smile at bay as he opens the text.

It's a screenshot of one of Lydia's numerous tweets.  
  
"You got to be kidding me..."

Stiles mutters under his breath as he reads the caption above the picture of Derek holding him tight into his arms, his eyes filled with fondess as he looks into Stiles' eyes.

_#SterekRises._


	7. Chapter 7

 

Stiles is grinning from ear to ear at the astounded look coming across Derek's face as soon as Stiles pulls over and turns the engine off. Stiles asked his father if he could borrow his truck for the night, fully intentioned to take advantage of the comfy space in the back for him and Derek to snuggle against each other under a blanket and maybe, if everything goes according to plans, actually watch the movie playing on the huge outdoor screen between one make out session and the following one.

"I'm not sure if I can trust that look on your face." Derek observes with an eyebrow arched up in amusement, Stiles just shrugs coolly, tightening his grip on Derek's hand as they make themselves comfortable in the back of the truck. Stiles licks his bottom lip as soon as his eyes lay on the gorgeous man sitting next to him, unable to fight the urge surging in within him to kiss him senseless so he settles for a quick, chaste kiss on his lips instead. Derek doesn't even question the sudden gesture, he just threads his fingers in Stiles' hair, giving a low, unhappy noise from his throat as soon as Stiles pulls back, smiling at him with a cheeky smirk on his face. He reaches for a duffle bag and zips it open, pulling out a blanket and a pillow. Derek chuckles as he makes an observation, saying. "You left nothing to chance."

Stiles makes a face at that. Of course, he did. Why shouldn't he? Derek deserves everything done perfectly for their date and, as to prove a point, he pulls out an extra large bag of chips. "Got us snacks, too!" 

Derek shakes his head just slightly, a gleeful smile firm planted on his lips as he leans in, pressing their lips together in a soft kiss that in its delicacy turns Stiles in a puddle of need.

"This is a perfect date."

Although those words are said with nothing but tenderness, Stiles still feels the need to point out with an unsteady voice, suddenly hesitant. "The night has just started.."

Derek knows what Stiles means by those unsaid words hanging in the air between them, so he just lays down on, resting his head on the pillow and keeping his arm open as a silent invitation to set himself comfortable against him. He smiles as he lays down next to Derek whose arm comes to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him impossibly _close_ and _warm_ against him.

"This is nice." Stiles murmurs quietly, leaning to press one brief kiss on Derek's collarbone and reveling in the shivers suddenly breaking across his skin. Stiles rests his face in the crook of his neck, closing his eyes and relaxing into the soft touch of Derek's fingers playing with his hair.

"It really is." Derek agrees with calmness filling his voice thinking that It really is easy to be with Stiles. Surprisingly easy. Despite the small feud they've engaged for the past few days, Derek wonders how can someone get just a glimpse of the wonderful human being in his arms and throw him away like fucking garbage. Stiles is kind hearted, funny, vibrant, he's someone it's so easy to fell in _like_ with.

When those thoughts start getting louder in his head, Derek decides to break that silence hanging between them. "Anyway, what movie are they screening, tonight?"

Stiles stalls, biting on his bottom lip. _Definitely_ not a good sign.

"Stiles?" Derek insists, suddenly dreading the answer to that question. The look on Stiles' face promises no good coming forward.

"Twilight." Stiles finally admits with low, almost inaudible voice, probably not meant for Derek to hear.

Derek's unsure if to start spilling bloody tears or laugh his ass off because, _Twilight._ Seriously?

"This is going to be a long night.." Derek's voice is deadly serious and if it weren't for the slight smile playing over his lips, Stiles would start stressing himself over the fact that he has already screwed this up with his movie choice.

"It's not that bad..."

"Don't tell me you've read the books."

" _Of course,_ I did. I love to look out for parallels between book and movie." Stiles explains almost defensively as he throws his arm over Derek's stomach, his thumb drawing lazy circles over his hip that starts sending shivers crawling up Derek's spine.

 

They're 10 minutes into the movie. Stiles insists on consuming those chips. Derek raises an eyebrow that makes Stiles sigh, “Everyone knows that's just a rite of passage through the screening of a movie.”

Derek doesn't believe him for one second, but his stomach is rumbling so he doesn't really object to that proposition. Stiles' digits are soon covered in salt and crumbs and, since his mischievous mind didn't supply the idea to bring napkins, he just thinks _what's a better way to wipe his fingers than just dripping them wet with saliva?_ Derek's breath hitches at the way Stiles slides his fingers into his mouth, his gaze firm planted on the screen, and darts his tongue out of his pink lips, wrapping it around his finger in slow motion. Derek's free hand, the one not currently playing with Stiles' hair, slides under the thin blanket to fix his crotch. He tries to be subtle. He prays for Stiles to not notice but then, his salty-looking mouth quirks up in a naughty smile, letting his gaze to wander from the screen to the outline of Derek's hand visible from above the blanket. "Someone's happy to see me?"

Derek, with crimson blush spreading across his face, grunts under his breath and calls himself _pathetic_ like a horny teenager for not being able to refrain himself from getting hard by the most innocent gestures coming from Stiles.

"I wasn't--" Derek tries to justify himself but really, what could he even say at this point? He's been caught with the hands in the cookies jar, like _literally_. He gives a resigned sigh and mumbles. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Stiles chuckles quietly then asks, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Can I ask you what made you hard?"

It's a  _fully legit_ question but what makes Derek's dick twitch in the restraint of his jeans is actually _how_ Stiles asks him, Jesus, with sultry curiosity and complete lack of embarrassment filling his voice.

"Y-you, uh, sucking your fingers." Jesus, Derek couldn't become any more embarrassed now that he's actually giving voice to the naughty images playing behind his eyelids featuring Stiles, sucking at something bigger than just his fingers with that same famished look on his face, wet and sloppy with saliva dripping down his chin. Okay. He needs to pull himself together, like _right now._

 

 

_“Derek?”_

A soft voice calls his name. Derek's eyes shoot open, his mouth drifting agape in a breathless gasp.

Holy shit.

“Der, you okay?”

Derek shoots a brief look to Stiles' hand, resting idly on his stomach from above the blanket. It has been a dream. Jesus. Thank God. Wait. Did he fall asleep through the movie?

“D-did I--”

“Yes.” Stiles cracks a polite smile, gently trailing his hand to Derek's cheek and stroking in soothing, circular motion his thumb over his cheek. “Hey, Der. It's okay, you haven't missed that much. Bella still has to find out the truth about Edward..”

Derek's not sure if either be relieved or not about that bit of information.

“I'm sorry if I fell asleep. _I'm awake now._ ”

 _Everything is awake. My dick in particular._  Derek thinks only half bitterly not daring to vocalize that thought.

Stiles smiles in return, snuggling close to him, his hand still _too dangerously close_ to his throbbing boner. 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if it's short or for updating after so long but work and poor motivation drifted me away from the sterek fics for the past few months! Next chapter shouldn't take this long to be posted.

"He was so... Jesus, I'm not crazy. I felt how hard he was but he literally pretended everything in his pants was under control. You know what I mean?"

Lydia gives away a distracted humming noise as he fiddles with her purse. Stiles just keeps rambling, staring at the ceiling, sprawled over Lydia's bed.

"He was tense and weird for the rest of the night. I asked him if he wanted to take a sip and almost fell off the truck."

Lydia shook her head in amusement, a satisfied smirk flashing across her face as she pulls out her favorite lipstick out of her purse. " _Ha!_ Finally found you."

Stiles can't help the tired groan escaping him as he sits up on his elbows, watching her coming to face the mirror. "Are you even listening to me? _Hello?”_

"Do you want me to be completely honest with you, Stiles?" Lydia sighs, a tired edge in her voice that gives the answer away without even trying.

"It's not like you own any self-control after all." Stiles grunts, waiting for the bomb of the brutal truth to blow up in his face.

Lydia can't stop grinning as she says, voice smug and sort of  _know it all._ "You can't ask a man that's obviously having a boner if he wants to take a _sip._ "

Stiles's face flushes red, his voice cracking as he spits back, "Of my _beer_! I asked him if he wanted to take a sip of my _beer!"_

"Did you actually tell him that?"

"Well, no." Stiles says with small, bashful voice, rubbing the back of his neck before adding, "I thought it was clear as day!"

“Well, it didn't help his case didn't it?”

“You know, I actually asked for your advice hoping you'd say something like 'Oh, Honey you are just over analyzing everything like usual. Just fucking _chill_.'"  
Lydia gives him the side eye through the mirror reflection, shrugging. “As you know, I'm all for the brutal truth, Stiles. If you want someone to say exactly what you want to hear, you should have asked Scott.”

Stiles just gape at that, knowing _deep down_ how right she is.  
“What's your advice?”

Lydia smiles at the desperation filling Stiles's voice. “Do you want to take things further with him?”

“Straight to the boiling point, isn't it?”

“Stiles.” Lydia's tone indicates she's starting to get annoyed by his several attempts to dodge the question, hitting him like a bullet. “Just answer the question.”

The point is, Stiles doesn't even know at this point.

“I guess?” He blushes under Lydia's mischievous smile as soon as the admission is out of his mouth, “I mean, I know I am not ready for, you know, the _full_ ride.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, murmuring under her breath, “Jesus, just call it _penetration._ ”

Stiles absolutely ignores her quip, “but I guess I could be, you know, into something else.”

“Do you think Derek's on your same page?”

“His dick surely was last night.” Stiles can't help but counter not missing a beat, his cheeks flushing with heat at the thought of the previous night, how hard it looked confined in the constricting material of his pants and how bad his fingers were hitching to just reach for it, feel it under his palm...

There's only one way to find out.

Stiles pulls out his phone, typing with fast and trembling fingers under Lydia's attentive gaze staring at him with her arms crossed against her chest, her eyebrow arched up quizzically.

"What are you doing?"

Stiles's face breaks into a satisfied grin as soon as soon as the text's been sent. He doesn't lift his gaze from the words for a while, then he looks up, smiling widely at his best friend with a mishievous glint in his eyes that definitely can't be trusted, "Just testing the waters."


	9. Chapter 9

"Jesus.." Stiles moans, his fingers clutching around the hem of Derek's shirt, desperately pulling at the fabric.

Derek gives a breathless chuckle against his red, swollen mouth, guessing his intentions. "Stiles.."

"What?"

Stiles sounds just equally breathless, completely unable to bring himself to open his eyes. He can't look. Not when the sight of lustful eyes looking back at him would be enough to make him come in his pants.

"I thought we were supposed to actually _watch_ the movie. Isn't the purpose of this date night?" Derek sweetly reminds him but despite his (apparent) good intentions, he can't seem to move his hand away from the outline of Stiles's clad erection, rubbing and taking deep satisfaction in the way it hardens beneath his touch.

"We are.. watching." Stiles breathes out, his tongue darting out to swipe over his swollen lip under the hungry look Derek's sending in his way, following the motion with his eyes.

"The tv's off," Derek tells him, his fingers teasing him from above the fabric. Stiles's hips jerk up, trying to chase the friction, unable to fight back the groan of frustration escaping him when Derek does nothing to ease the burning itch flooding within him.

"You know what else should be off?"

"What?" Derek's smirking like he exactly knows the answer to that question but at the same time doesn't want to deprive himself of the satisfaction to hear it dripping sweetly from Stiles's mouth.

Stiles bites down on his bottom lip, reaching with trembling fingers for the hem of Derek's shirt, "This."

Derek lets him pull it off him feeling the blood rushing to his cock at the look of undeniable lust and reverence written all over Stiles's face the moment he sees him without his shirt for the first time. Derek thinks Stiles's shirt it's an obstacle in the way so he starts pulling at it until Stiles obediently lifts his arms, letting the fabric to slide off his head.

Stiles stares up at him like he's just seen _God_ in the flesh.

"I can put my shirt back on if it's too much." Derek muses, a wide smile lighting up his features.

Stiles would slap him. He would legit hit him if he were able to move a single muscle in this very moment.

"Stiles?"

Stiles just..

He keeps gaping, suddenly feeling like he's fighting for breath. God. He can touch him, right? He can lift his hand, _yes, like that,_ and witness with his own hand the beautiful gift that is Derek's body and feel under his palm how exactly toned is Derek's chest and wow, it's _very_ toned.

Derek's still grinning when the fingers finally touch skin, although Stiles's ears register the soft, almost inaudible moan escaping him as soon as he trails his finger up and down Derek's chest, brushing over his nipple so softly that feels like the touch of a _feather_ swiping over his skin.

"Jesus, Stiles.."

Derek doesn't look so smug anymore. Stiles just keep moving forward on its path, biting back a moan as he lets his fingers run slow and deliberately over Derek's happy trail wishing it was his tongue following the same path. Maybe, if he asked, Derek would let him.

"D-Der?"

"Yeah?" Derek's eyes soften, his thumb coming to stroke his cheek in slow circles that somehow soothes the raging storm of hormones and emotions taking over him at the moment.

"I Want to ask you something and.. if, if you want to say no, that's perfectly okay.."

"Just tell me, Stiles. What is it?"

"Huh, I really want to-" Stiles trails off on a sigh, mentally cursing himself.

"You are not an idiot, Stiles. Tell me." Or maybe cursing himself _out loud_ , whatever.

"Can I suck you off?"  
  
Derek's eyes go wide for the briefest moment, his breath quickening as he gives a small nod that makes Stiles's face flush deep.

"Y-Yeah, I'd really like that."

Stiles makes a mental note that ends up playing like a loop in his head, like a warning bell, if you want, as he flips them over, pinning Derek against the couch. _"Don't come in the next ten seconds. Don't come in the next ten seconds. Don't-"_

He fiddles with trembling fingers on Derek's belt, taking an excessive amount of time into trying to take it off. _Damn sweaty hands._ He refuses to look up but knows, by heart, that Derek's staring at him and probably smirking at him. He looks up briefly, just to check and yeah, here it is.

"I've done this before, okay? I just got _sweaty hands._ " Stiles snorts with a roll of his eyes, his tone borderline defensive.

"Okay, okay." Derek bites back a chuckle, attempting to keep his expression steady. 

When  _finally_ Derek's out of his pants, there's only one obstacle standing in their way. Stiles feels his breathing quickening, the pace of his heart picking up speed as his fingers brush over the waistband of Derek's briefs. There are only seconds of anticipation until he finally pulls them down when the unthinkable happens.

Stiles hears the familiar click of keys turning into the lock and shares a wide-eyed, terrified look with Derek before his biggest nightmare comes to life..

"Stiles, I'm home."

His father coming home early.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on twitter](https://twitter.com/en_sky9) or [Tumblr](https://skyblue993.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated :)


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